


Don't Fail Me Now

by RubyLipsStarryEyes



Series: Remus and Hermione’s love story [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Christmas Fluff, Complete, Everyone is of age, F/M, Falling In Love, Fear, Fear of Rejection, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, No Romione, No Smut, No past Remus/Tonks, Not Beta Read, Older Man/Younger Woman, Past, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, inspired by Celine dion, no past Hermione/Ron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21723655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLipsStarryEyes/pseuds/RubyLipsStarryEyes
Summary: Hermione and Remus come to terms with feelings and promises
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Remus Lupin
Series: Remus and Hermione’s love story [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660480
Comments: 64
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The lyrics in bold at the beginning of each chapter are from Celine Dion's song Courage, inspiring this work.  
> Settings and Characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros.
> 
> I do not own the song, lyrics, or characters. I am not receiving any compensation for their use- they just inspired me.

**_I would be lying if I said: "I'm fine"_ **

**_I think of you at least a hundred times_ **

**_'Cause in the echo of my voice I hear your words_ **

**_Just like you're there_ **

The Burrow was a flurry of activity, but she didn’t find the comfort that she usually did here. She felt so fragile after being so strong. She’d known for months that she’d have to obliviate her parents, but when it came right down to it… She’d thought of making sure they were safe and out of the way. She’d thought to make them happy, even without her. But she hadn’t thought of what it would do to her. 

He’d found her in a corner of the garden, on a small bench tucked away and forgotten. The orange cat with the smushed face flicked his tail at his feet before jumping up into her lap. He’d stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, and for a fleeting moment she’d wondered what he’d been like as a teenager. She wondered if he’d been anything like her. 

“Hermione are you okay?” His voice was always so soft and gentle. They few times she’d heard it raised, it had been to get someone’s attention or to make a point. The first time she’d heard him speak, it had been firm, unrelenting; he had been ordering the dementors away from them on the Hogwarts Express. As soon as it was gone, he had been calm, kind, reassuring. The chocolate had helped, just as he said it would, but it was his presence that she accredited her feelings of safety to. 

“Remus. I’m sorry. I’m fine.” She wiped away the tears that had been steadily falling, only to have them reappear seconds later. He watched her carefully, his amber eyes steady. 

“No need to be sorry. You do know that you don’t have to do this tomorrow, right? We can find someone else.”

Hermione shook her head, her brown curls flying around her face, a few sticking to her damp cheeks.

“It’s not that. I’m not going to stay here while the rest of you rescue Harry. It’s…” Her voice broke, and she wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could physically hold together her breaking heart. 

Remus considered her carefully, taking a seat on the bench next to her. Crookshanks seemed satisfied, and hopped down, probably off to find a gnome to chase. Remus’s proximity loosened the painful bands of sorrow and guilt from her chest, and she gasped a breath, and another. 

“It’s my parents.” 

His eyes rose slowly from the nearby flutterby bush to her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, not knowing if she would be able to get the words out if his eyes met hers. 

“Are they safe? I didn’t hear--”

“I obliviated them, and sent them away.” The confession tumbled from her lips, and didn’t stop. “They think their lifelong dream was to move to Australia, and they…” A strangled sob escaped, and she dug her fingertips into her ribs. “They don’t know they had a daughter. They don’t remember me.”

His arm came around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. His movements were careful, almost questioning; as if he wasn’t sure she would allow him to comfort her or she would pull away at any moment. To his surprise, and hers, she collapsed into his chest, the sobs tearing from her throat. She felt him whisper above her, a flutter of magic surrounding them. A silencing spell. For some reason the small kindness made her sob even harder, her hands finding the front of his robes and fisting them, pulling him closer.

“Shhh, darling. It’s okay. They’re safe now.” He had one hand on her back, the other stroking her hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were protecting them. When this is all over, we will find them and restore their memories of you. You’ll see.” 

Her sobs slowed at his quiet words whispered in her ear, but she didn’t relax her hands or draw away. He didn’t stop stroking her hair, or whispering to her. “You’ll see them again, and they’ll understand. Don’t worry, darling. You’re going to make it through this.” 

Hermione let herself get carried away in his husky voice, the feel of his arms around her and his broad chest beneath her fingertips. He radiated heat, and a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if it was due to his lycanthropy or if it was just him. He smelled like chocolate and Earl Grey tea, something earthy and clean. She could hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. His words tapered off, but she sensed he wouldn’t let go until she did, and she wasn’t ready for that yet. 

She needed this; the feeling of security and safety for just a moment longer. She took in breath after breath, steeling herself for the loss of his warmth and solid barrier from the chaos of the world around her. 

When she looked up at him after several long minutes, he was watching a gnome glare at them from under the flutterby bush. The rude gesture from the gnome made her giggle, and he gave a small smile, eyes still averted. She released his robes, her fingers stiff from holding them so tightly for so long.

“Remus?” Her voice was so small, so uncharacteristically unsure. His amber eyes met hers, and her breath caught. “Did you mean it? Do you really think we’re going to make it through this war?” 

Emotion played deep in his eyes, but he nodded. “If anybody will, it’s you, Hermione. You won’t fail now.” He reached up, pushing damp curls away from her face, swiping his thumb across her cheek to dry the last of the tears that clung to her skin. Nothing more needed to be said, and they sat quietly until Mrs Weasley started rounding everyone up for dinner. 

Remus stood first, Hermione catching his hand in hers before he could walk away. 

“Thank you, Remus.” 

He squeezed her hand lightly, and strode through the garden towards the house. Hermione stayed put, her chest tightening again, hoping that he was right. His words echoed in her mind, “Don’t worry, darling. You’re going to make it through this.”

If she tried hard enough, she could smell the bergamot and soap clinging to her.


	2. Chapter 2

**_I still come home from a long day_ **

**_So much to talk about, so much to say_ **

**_I love to think that we're still making plans_ **

**_In conversations that'll never end_ **

  
  


Remus shut the door to his small cottage, letting out a deep sigh. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to massage a bit of the tension from his shoulders. It had been such a long day. Mad-Eye was dead, George had lost an ear… But Harry was safely at the Burrow with Ron and Hermione. He could only be grateful that it hadn’t been worse. 

For a moment he wondered if he’d made the right choice, coming home instead of staying with the others. The thoughts and words he hadn’t said swirled around in his mind. Hermione had seemed distracted, once they were back at the Burrow. 

He knew the look in her eye; she was planning something. His stomach twisted. The witch was brilliant, but he didn’t like not knowing what she had up her sleeve. He made a pot of tea, and sat down on the lumpy sofa, musing over what she might be scheming. 

Later, he lay in bed, his thoughts returning to the young Gryffindor. She’d sacrificed so much already. She was so strong, and she reminded him of Lily. Her stubbornness and fierce loyalty, down to her soft hearted kindness. He fell asleep attempting to convince himself that what he told her was right; that if anyone would make it out of this alive, it would be her. 

He tried to catch up with her over the next week, but every time he got close it seemed Molly materialized at his elbow, asking him to help with this or that between missions for the Order. Molly really did have the worst timing, but he couldn’t risk letting her know that the trio was planning something under her nose. So he watched them discreetly from far off, waiting.

It was at Bill and Fleur’s wedding that everything unravelled. He had finally caught Hermione’s eye when Kingsley’s voice rumbled through the tent. Hermione looked at Remus with big brown eyes, an apology on her lips. She managed to grab both boys and disapparated before Remus could reach them. Tonks took his arm, pulling him along to her parent’s house. 

He felt sick to his stomach, thinking of the trio out on their own, his conversation with Hermione cut short. When he and Tonks reached the coffee shop where two Death Eaters had been knocked out and obliviated, he couldn’t help but smile. Hermione was still making plans, but this time, he knew where to find her. Next to the cup with her lipstick on it, the sugar had been poured out, a number 12 drawn in it with a finger. 

Two days later, he found them at Grimmauld place, safely in one piece. He hugged each one tightly, relieved when Hermione revealed just how prepared she had been to leave in a hurry. He was less enthused when they rejected the idea of him coming with them.

“Remus you’ve got duties here.” Harry was glowering over the table at him, and Hermione looked as if she was going to be sick.

“I think your father would rather I was with you, protecting you!” 

“My father would have wanted you to stay put, where you’re of the most use. Not with us. We don’t even know if what we’re doing will be helpful!” Harry was bellowing, Ron holding him firmly in place with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Remus, please.” Hermione’s eyes were wide, pleading with him to see their side. “You said you believed we would make it through this, that means doing what is necessary, not just want we want.” 

Remus saw red. He stood abruptly, the chair flying back with a crash into the wall. “Fine.” 

He stalked out into the hall, the portrait of the late Mrs Black screaming at him, “WEREWOLF! TRAITOR! MURDERER.” 

He was on the front step when Hermione’s hand closed around his wrist. “Remus, please be safe. We have plans when this is all over… You said you’d go with me to get my parents. We have pl--”

He yanked his arm from her grasp, apparating back to his cottage, immediately regretting not letting her finish. But if she didn’t finish then just maybe… their conversations might not end. Not like this. 


	3. Chapter 3

**_I need you to keep away the doubts_ **

**_I'm staring in the face of something new_ **

**_You're all I got to hold on to_ **

The war was over, Voldemort was dead, and they had survived. But Hermione’s mind was already searching for the next step, the next threat, the next plan. She was constantly on high alert, wondering when it was all going to fall apart again. 

Remus again found her in the secluded corner of the garden at the Burrow, Crookshanks at his feet. 

“Hermione?” 

“Hi, Remus.” 

He didn’t hesitate to sit beside her this time, and Crookshanks flicked his tail, leaving them alone. Remus clasped his hands together, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. The full moon had only been a few days previous, and it showed in the tired lines around his eyes, the stiffness in his left shoulder. 

“I can’t believe it’s really over.” Hermione trained her eyes on the flutterby bush. “Every time someone comes through the door, I think someone else has died or something else has happened…”

He nodded slowly. “It was like this last time, as well. Then I lost all three of my best friends to it. I didn’t know how life would go on.” 

“And this time?” Hermione shifted her eyes to him, carefully taking in every line of his profile.

“This time we lost Mad-Eye, and Tonks, and Severus… But we still have each other.” He glanced up with a tired smile. “So that’s what I’m holding on to.” 

“I feel like I don’t know how to function anymore. It feels so… new. I don’t know what the future will bring but it feels so much more terrifying without the proverbial axe hanging over our heads.” Hermione bit her lip, relieved to have finally admitted her fear and doubts. 

“I know. But you’ve got a bright future, Hermione.”

“That’s just it though. Everyone expects us all to live up to what they think we’ve done. What if I don’t live up to those expectations? What if I never do anything great again?”

“The only expectations you need to live up to are your own. You have done more in the last 7 years than some people will do in their entire lives. Don’t allow your fear or their doubts to stop you from whatever it is you want to do. Do you want to be Minister for Magic? Great, let’s start campaigning. Do you want to learn how to play Quidditch? Cool. I can’t help you there, I’m rubbish. But I’m sure Harry, Ron, and Ginny would be thrilled.” That got a giggle from her. “You want to go to Antarctica to study the magical microflora? Go. You can do anything, Hermione.” 

Tears shimmered in her eyes as he smiled at her, still hunched over. “Promise to stick with me, no matter what crazy ideas I might have?” 

He huffed a laugh. “I don’t know if I can support all crazy ideas… SPEW comes to mind.” Hermione looked as if she was going to launch into a tirade, so he held up his hand to stop her. “But I’ll always be around when you need me. What are friends for?” 

She shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. “If you’re my friend you’re going to let me fix your shoulder.” He rolled his eyes. 

“I’m fine, Hermione, really.” 

“Then let me see it.” She stared him down, until he huffed again. 

“You’re impossible, you know that?” He shrugged off his robes, flinching at the movement. 

“Says the man that’s been suffering in silence for three days instead of asking one of about a dozen of us proficient in healing spells.” She rolled her eyes and folded his robes neatly while he unbuttoned his shirt. 

“I’ve been managing just fine for the last 30 some-odd years.”

“But you don’t have to anymore, Remus.” She sucked in a breath when his shirt came over his shoulder. 

The skin was black and blue, silvery scars in stark contrast against the bruise. She brushed her fingers over them lightly, whispering a diagnostic and healing spell. The bruise began to change color, as if it was aging in fast forward. Black and blue faded to green and yellow, getting progressively smaller until it disappeared completely. 

“Better?” 

He rolled his shoulders, breathing a sigh of relief. “Yes, much. Thank you Hermione.” Her fingers lingered over his shoulders, the golden tan skin littered with silver and pink scars, muscle rippling beneath the surface. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin from where she was sitting, and then his amber eyes caught hers. Heat rushed over her cheeks as she dropped her hands; he replaced his shirt, fingers working up the buttons with excruciating slowness. 

She handed his robes back wordlessly, and stood in a hurry. “I need to talk to Ginny. I’ll see you later, yeah?” She felt his eyes boring into her back all the way back to the house.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Not one to hide from the truth I know_ **

**_It's out of my hands but I won't let you go_ **

**_There's no replacing the way you touched me_ **

**_I still feel the rush_ **

His skin still tingled where she had traced her fingers over his scars. It had been two months, and he could still feel her touch. He’d never felt that with anyone else, despite countless healers and the occasional fling over the years. 

She’d avoided his eyes since then, someone else always in the room with them. It was usually Ginny, and he could feel the youngest Weasley’s appraising gaze whenever he got too close to Hermione. 

Whatever had happened that day in the garden, Ginny seemed to know something he didn’t; specifically, what exactly had Hermione flushing and running like a startled kneazle. He was sure he hadn’t said anything wrong, he’d only thanked her before her rather unexpected and abrupt departure from the gardens. 

Now they were all back at the Burrow once more, celebrating Harry’s eighteenth birthday and his and Ron’s acceptance to the Auror training program. Harry looked happy, with one arm slung around the back of Ginny’s chair, Hermione and Ron grinning from across the table. With Harry and Ron now working for the ministry, Ginny and Hermione were both returning to Hogwarts for their final year. 

He’d expected nothing less of Hermione, even though she’d received dozens of offers to work for just about every department for the Ministry, and a couple abroad. She’d reportedly been insistant that she wouldn’t be qualified until she sat for her NEWTs. His former student- though he was loathe to think of her as such- was a scholar through and through. 

Remus couldn’t help but feel a bit sad he wouldn’t be seeing her around the Burrow after the start of term. Molly seemed to be under the impression that he and Tonks had been closer than they’d actually been, and after her death, Molly had threatened him life and limb if he didn’t stop by for dinner several times a week. Truthfully, he was grateful to her, even if her reason was wayward. 

Hermione again drew his attention, lecturing the boys about the proper use of bezoars. 

“We know, ‘Mione. Remember when Malfoy tried to kill me? Harry used one on me.”

“Technically, Ronald, Malfoy was trying to kill Dumbledore, but we all know his heart wasn’t in it. And that’s all besides the point anyway.”

“Our point is that we’ve got the basics.” Harry was trying not to smile. 

“But for best results you should-- Oh honestly.” She’d seen his smirk, and looked up and down the table for back-up. Her brown eyes focused on him, and he tried to take a sip of wine to dissuade her. “Remus! Tell them I’m right!” 

“‘Mione, we’re not saying you’re not!” Ron saved Remus from having to answer, and drew her eyes away from him. 

They continued arguing, and Charlie and Bill elbowed him from either side almost simultaneously. The eldest two Weasleys both grinned at him, sharply reminding him of the twins. He took another sip of wine, hoping to screw on a mild expression. 

“So… ‘Mione, huh?” Charlie grinned, abandoning his potatoes. 

“Well if anyone can tame the lioness its the wolf,” Bill snickered into his glass. 

“I’m sure I have no idea what you two are on about.” Remus took a deliberate bite of his roast beef, but the two men weren’t going to be so easily put off. 

“Oh come on Remus, she’s been looking at you like you’re a piece of meat for months. You can’t say you haven’t noticed.” Charlie tilted his head to better see past Remus and down the table. 

“Years, more like.” Bill raised an eyebrow.

Remus choked on the roast beef. Herminone, looking at him? His eyes watered as both men pounded on his back. He felt his face heat, eyes from up and down the table looking around. 

“I think you both need your eyes checked,” Remus coughed, waving them off. 

“Or you do.” Charlie smirked.

“Wolf, remember? I’ve got you beat every day of the month, twice on full moons.” Bill opened his mouth but Remus cut him off. “You don’t count.” They’d laughed, and launched into a slightly louder conversation with their father across the table about the ministry. Remus returned to his wine, lost in his thoughts. 

He’d grown rather fond of the petite witch with her big eyes and even bigger ideas. But Bill and Charlie had to be mistaken. There was no way a bright, beautiful witch like her would be pining after an old, broken werewolf like himself. 

But if she was… Did he really have the strength to know for sure, and then let her go? He wasn’t sure he did. He’d never been one to avoid hard truths, he’d learned at a painfully young age that it rarely did any good. He could still feel the ghost of her touch after all, and that had been completely innocent. No… He would not tempt fate.

He left quickly after dinner, telling a protesting Molly he had a chapter of his newest textbook due to his editor. He had in fact, sent it in a week and a half ago, but there was no reason for her to know that. As he turned to apparate, he caught a glimpse through the kitchen window; brown curls framed flushed cheeks and brown eyes that were watching him carefully. 


	5. Chapter 5

**_Sometimes it drowns me 'til I can't breathe_ **

**_Thinking it's only in our memories_ **

**_But then I talk to you like I did then_ **

**_In conversations that will never end_ **

  
  


Halfway through October, Hermione was sitting in her last class before the weekend; a Defence Against the Dark Arts class taught by a young ex-Auror. She understood he’d been a friend of Tonks’s before the war, but had been working overseas during the brunt of it. Professor Osmund was nice enough, but this was one class she took simply for appearances. 

She was exhausted, the nightmares that plagued her had been worse the last few nights, leaving her sleep deprived and emotional. She kept seeing her friends among the lines of bodies in the Great Hall after the battle. Remus had featured more and more prominently since she healed his shoulder in the garden. The classroom they were in was the same one that had been used by Remus when he taught here, and she let herself slide into the old memories. 

She thought of Remus standing at the lectern, patiently waiting for his class to settle down before they’d begin the lesson. She thought of his gramophone, playing the jazzy tune when they’d lined up to face their worst fears. She snickered to herself, thinking of his bemused expression when Neville had dressed his Professor-Snape-shaped-boggart in his grandmother’s dress and truly atrocious hat. 

Her shoulders shook with silent mirth, recalling him shoot a wad of chewing gum up Peeves’ nose, but the laugh morphed into tears. She was starting to wonder if she’d actually been dreaming or if Remus was actually dead; the thought was nearly unbearable. But she still felt the electricity in her fingers where she’d reached out and touched his impossibly warm skin. His scars were beautiful in their own way, but also heartbreaking. She’d just wanted to trace each one, to smooth her fingers over each mark that his hard life had left on his skin. She couldn’t have imagined that, right? 

She gathered her belongings and fled before her sobs became audible. She would apologize to Professor Osmund later, but for now she needed out of this classroom.

She felt as if she was drowning, wave after wave crashing down around her. She felt so alone here this year. She had Ginny, and Neville… But it wasn’t their company she craved. She cleared her throat, changing direction from Gryffindor tower to the Headmistress’s office. 

“Bursting Bubbles.” The griffin that guarded the door lept aside, and she strode in without knocking. 

“Minerva, I hate to do this but I need a favor.” Hermione stopped in front of the massive desk, the severe-looking witch behind it looking calmly up at her. 

“Yes Miss Granger?” McGonagall set her quill down carefully, her sharp eyes not missing the tear tracks down the younger witch’s face. 

“I need to go back to the Burrow for the weekend. May I use your floo?” The words came out in a rush, her hands shaking. 

“Certainly. Will you be back for classes Monday?” 

“Yes, I will. If you see Professor Osmund, will you convey my apologies?” Hermione shifted on her feet, feeling guilty for leaving his class with no explanation. 

“I shall. Are you quite alright?” McGonagall was looking her over, concern evident in her features. 

“It’s just too much right now. I need a few days… Not here.” Hermione felt the tears begin to trickle down her face once more. McGonagall simply nodded. There had been so much pain and death here. Returning was difficult on the staff and students alike, and Hermione hadn’t been the first student to request the privilege of returning home on the weekends, nor would she be the last. 

“Floo powder is in the box on the mantle. I will see you back here Monday morning before breakfast.” She picked her quill back up and returned to her work. 

Hermione stubbled out of the fireplace at the Burrow, soot-smudged and crying again, but it wasn’t Molly or Arthur who stood with their back to the fireplace. No, the short, sandy hair and broad shoulders could only be…

“Remus?” Her voice broke, the man turning in time to keep her falling to her knees. 

“Hermione! What happened?” His eyes were wide, sweeping over her looking for an injury, or anything to clue him in to why she was crying. When he didn’t find anything obviously amiss, her uniform slightly dirty from the floo but otherwise unafflicted, he pulled her into his chest.

“Why did I go back? All I see in that castle is death.” She felt his shoulders slump around her, but he held her even more tightly. “All I see is Lavender and Severus and Collin and Tonks…” And you. She couldn’t bring herself to say the last bit. She dissolved into silent, wracking sobs against his chest, and he just held her, stroking her hair as he had in the garden a year before. 

Like before, with her hands knotted in his robes and each breath filling her lungs with the scent of chocolate, earth, soap, and bergamot, she found the heat of his body to be the soothing balm that her heart and soul needed. She’d come here wanting Harry and Ron, but found how much she truly  _ needed  _ Remus. 

She held on for far longer than was strictly necessary, but she feared if she let go, she’d never get to feel him like this again. Only having the memory of him holding her like this was like wine after whiskey; weak and not nearly enough to keep her satisfied. His hand kept stroking her hair though, and he’d dropped his head so his forehead was resting against her crown.

“Oh. Er… Sorry mates.” 

Ron’s embarrassed tone of voice made her tense, but she didn’t move. The pressure from the top of her head disappeared, and she knew her moment of unadulterated peace in his arms was over. She pulled back slightly, cheeks flushing at the rather large wet spot in the middle of his chest. He didn’t seem bothered, his amber eyes probing hers, shoulders relaxed.

“Are you going to be alright to go back?” 

“I’m not going back until Monday morning, before classes.” Hermione was having trouble getting her hands to release his robes this time, especially with his hands cradling her elbows and his eyes locked on hers. It felt as if he could see into her soul, every crack and fear and dream on display. 

“Good. Let’s get you some tea, and get your mind off of it all for a while.”

“What, no chocolate this time?” She smiled weakly, poking at his rather impressive chocolate habit. 

“It really helps.” He smiled down at her, echoing the first words he’d said directly to her. It felt like ages ago, that train ride; a lifetime and then some. “Go on. Sit down.”

“I think I’m actually going to change… I don’t particularly like that I’m still wearing a schoolgirl outfit as an adult.” She wrinkled her nose, and he suppressed a smile. 

“I’ll have a cup waiting for you then.” His soft smile was almost too much to resist. Her hands were still fisted in his robes, all she needed was to pull him down… Raise up on her tip toes and press her lips to his… 

Instead, she let go, disappearing upstairs to change. When had her feelings morphed from awe and respect of the new teacher to valued friend to… this?


	6. Chapter 6

**_Cause it's not easy_ **

**_When you're not with me_ **

**_This world of madness_ **

**_Goes faster now_ **

  
  


Remus made tea, and she’d taken it gratefully, curling up not unlike a cat beside him on the sofa rather than in the chair between her friends. He noted the glance Harry and Ron traded, but was already in the midst of asking Hermione about a charms journal he knew she favored, attempting to get her mind off of what had been upsetting her. 

He spent most of the weekend at the Burrow, leaving late and arriving early. The pull he felt to the young witch strengthened with every passing minute, and he knew she could feel it too. He saw it in the way that she moved, as if she was being pulled toward him, her eyes searching him out, if he left her sight for even a moment. 

Brief, tiny touches followed. Their fingers would brush handing off a teacup, she would reach out to draw his attention at dinner, he would drape his arm around the back of her chair to watch her relax, the tension in her shoulders and face melting away. 

Sunday night she fell asleep on the sofa, her cheek pressing into his shoulder. He forgot the book he was supposed to be reading, captivated by the way her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks, her slow deep breaths, and how even in her sleep, she would bunch his robes in her fist.

“Remus?” 

He looked around, setting aside his book. Harry was leaning against the door, arms crossed, his bespectacled green eyes trained on Hermione. 

“She cries out for you. When she sleeps. Did you know that?” 

Remus blinked, processing the information and shook his head slowly, his mouth too dry to form even the word “no.”

“It happened when we were… gone. She cried out for everyone at one time or another. But Ginny says since they’ve been back at Hogwarts, it’s always for you.” 

Harry’s mouth twitched, the same way Lily’s had when she was about to say something she was unsure of. 

“This weekend, seeing her with you… She’s been more herself this weekend than she has been since sixth year.” He pushed his glasses up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. If you don’t feel the same for her… please… just don’t let her suffer.”

Remus sighed. “Harry… She’s young and brilliant and beautiful… She shouldn’t be weighed down by the likes of me.” 

The younger wizard’s face fell, and he pressed his lips into a thin line. 

“But I adore her. I don’t know that now is the time, while she’s still in school. Perhaps she’ll find someone young and whole to love her, and I’ll gladly step aside so she has the life she deserves. But if, when the time comes, she still feels the way she does, I could never tell her no.” Remus cupped his hand over hers that held on to his robes with a death grip, his throat tightening. 

Harry’s green eyes— Lily’s eyes— met his, and there was a long moment before Harry spoke. “I don’t know anyone that’s still whole; young or otherwise. What she deserves is to be happy, and she’s happy with you.”

With that, he turned and shoved his hands into his pockets and retreated through the house. 

Remus carried Hermione to bed a while later, holding her hand once he’d been able to pry it from his robes. He stood there for a long moment, his stomach twisting at the word that had been carved into her arm. 

Their world had been sheer madness for so long and Harry’s words haunted him. “I don’t know anyone that’s still whole.” Maybe he was right. The war had cracked, broken, and shattered so many lives; hers included. 

Her parents had returned from Australia, but their relationship was distant and forced. He didn’t think that her bringing a man home that was closer to their age than hers would help that. But he was getting ahead of himself. She may feel relaxed and happy with him, but that didn’t mean her feelings were romantic. He decided he’d lingered long enough, so he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and aparated home. 

The next morning he sent off a letter to Hogwarts, his chest aching to know he wouldn’t be seeing her again for some time. He received a reply the same night, and his anxiety eased. She was back at school, feeling better after the weekend. 

They traded letters at least once a day, sometimes more when she was having a particularly rough day. She sent him his favorite chocolate after the full moon, and he would send her books he thought she would enjoy. His heart lept every time the owl returned with a letter bearing his name in her hand. 

He was getting especially proficient in reading her moods through her handwriting, and in the weeks leading up to Christmas, her handwriting got progressively tighter and smaller, a sure fire sign she was anxious. He wondered if that meant she had found someone to bring back to the Burrow for Christmas and didn’t know how to tell him. 

They hadn’t broached the topic of  _ them,  _ but he knew the Weasley matriarch seemingly no longer thought of them as separate entities, and that could be awkward, if not dangerous. So he did the sensible thing, and told Molly unfortunately he would be unable to attend Christmas at the Burrow; he couldn’t face her rejection now, but he wouldn’t stand in the way of her happiness either. 


	7. Chapter 7

**_And it's a train wreck_ **

**_But I won't crash yet_ **

**_Long as your echo_ **

**_Never fades out_ **

“Hi Harry, Ron, Molly!” A round of hugs and pleasantries later, Hermione was glancing around the kitchen and sitting room, looking for the telltale sandy hair or amber eyes. She was late arriving, he should have been here already. 

“Did he not tell you?” Harry’s glass of firewhiskey was halfway to his lips, worry creasing his forehead. 

“Did who not tell me what?” Hermione’s bright smile wasn’t enough to cover the fear in her eyes as her stomach clenched. 

“Remus told Molly he couldn’t make it. We assumed you knew.” Harry’s eyes were hard, dark emeralds sparkling in the firelight. 

“Oh. Um, no. He didn’t. I just assumed he’d be here…” Hermione took his glass and downed it. “It’s fine. He doesn’t owe me an explanation. We’re just friends.” She handed his glass back, her eyes no longer sparkling and hopeful, but the sad, broken Hermione of the war. 

Harry nodded, but watched her retreat to a corner with George, neither of them saying a word. 

“‘Mione? Are you ok?” 

She looked up to find Ron offering a glass of firewhiskey. 

She nodded, taking the glass and trying not to let Ron see her teetering on the edge of free fall. But she was determined not to melt down in front of the whole Order. She wasn’t going to crash here; not yet.   
  


***

Harry pushed the glass at Ginny. 

“I gotta go kick his ass. I’ll be back.”

Ginny looked outraged. “You think I’m not in on this train wreck? You’re not the only one that wants her happy. I’m coming with you.” 

Harry’s lips twitched into a smile. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Not today. But save it for after the party.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Come on. We’ve got a wolf to catch.” 

At Remus’s cottage, Harry pounded on the door. 

“Remus! Open the gods damned door!” He pounded again. “Remus I swear to Merlin himself if you don’t—“

The door opened, And Harry was staring into the mild surprise of Remus’s scarred face. 

“Hello, Harry. Ginny. What can I do for you this evening?” He calmly opened the door wider, allowing them in. A pot of tea was steaming on the table, a book open on the arm of the sofa. 

He scarcely shut the door behind them when Harry balled his hands into fists and took a deep breath. 

“Remus what in the bloody hell are you playing at?” 

“Harry, I’m not—“

“She was looking for you. She walked in glowing like the damn sun and when _I_ had to tell her you weren’t coming she… she fucking _wilted._ You could see it!”

Remus closed his eyes, heart sinking. Had he been so wrong?

“Remus.” Ginny’s voice was softer, dripping with disappointment that twisted the knife through his heart. “She loves you. I don’t care that you think you’re too old for her or that there’s someone else out there for her. She doesn’t. Isn’t that what matters?” 

He met the hazel eyes of the young woman before him, the fire there challenging him to disagree with her. ”I know you love her. So don’t insult us or her by saying that you don’t. But if you ever leave us to do your dirty work so you don’t have to watch her heart break again, I will fucking end you.” 

She said it all so calmly that Remus had no doubt in his mind she would do just that. She strode past him, her heavy cloak snapping around her ankles. The front door slammed shut, and Harry sighed, looking back at Remus. 

“She would have given your mum a run for her money.”

“So would Hermione, but apparently that’s not enough.” Harry pushed his glasses up, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Harry, listen to me. I love Hermione. But I don’t want to hold her back. Do you know what a relationship with me will mean for her? God forbid what it would do if she took my name?”

“I know. You know. She knows. But by taking that choice away from her, you’re hurting her so much more than your name or condition ever could. You’re playing Dumbledore’s game.” Harry ran his hands through his hair, his eyes trained on the door. 

“I’m sorry,” Remus whispered. 

“So am I, but I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” With that Harry left, joining Ginny in the snowy garden.   
  


***

Back at the Burrow, Ginny and Harry slipped back in to see Hermione sitting with George, their shared silence heartbreaking. Their silent grief darkened the corner like a storm cloud, a stark contrast to the light of the fire and Christmas decorations around them.

She watched the room with empty eyes, Remus’s words echoing through her mind. “Don’t worry, darling. You’re going to make it through this.”

She could hold onto that, even if it felt like the echo got weaker every time she heard it. It’s all she had tonight. As long as she had those words, she could make it through this night alone. 


	8. Chapter 8

**_Courage_ **

**_Don't you dare fail me now_ **

Remus’s chest ached. As much as he hated to admit it, Harry and Ginny were right. How could he do to Hermione exactly what he’d been outraged to find Dumbledore had done to Harry? 

Taking away any choice she might have was the cowards way out of this. He wasn’t being brave by staying away… He was being a coward. 

He wiped away the tears that had slid down his cheeks, and braced himself on the back of a chair. 

“She fucking wilted...” “...watch her heart break again…” 

He’d promised her he’d be there for her. He’d promised Harry that he wouldn’t let her suffer. He’d promised Lily that when he found the girl that made him happy, he wouldn’t let her go. 

He exhaled, long and slow, hanging his head. 

He heard James and Sirius’s voices in his head this time. “You’re a Gryffindor, Moons!” “Show us some of that courage!” 

For Godric’s sake, he hoped that courage wasn’t about to fail him now. 

He grabbed his cloak, pulling it around him as he strode out into the garden. A twist, the tiniest pop, and he emerged into the Burrow’s garden. 

Through the window he saw a halo of brown curls, a crystal glass of amber liquid cradled in her delicate hands. His heart pounded in his chest, his stomach tightened, and the scars on his left shoulder tingled. That was nothing to what he felt when her brown eyes turned towards the window. 

The sadness in her eyes was enough to bring a man to his knees. His chest constricted, and he couldn’t breathe. Had he done that to her? He doubted she could see through the window and into the darkness, but he wished… 

He drew his wand, and muttered “lumos!” The tip of his wand lit, just enough to illuminate his face. He held his breath, but it was evidently enough, because she blinked, and then the crystal glass tumbled from her fingers, the liquid inside spilling in slow motion. His heart nearly stopped when the anguish was replaced with relief, hope, and something deeper. 

Remus didn’t know what to do next, but he knew if he moved, she would surely change her mind. He was spared the agony when she stood slowly, picking her way across the room. Past George, Ron, Ginny and Harry; the last two glancing through the window, relief ghosting over their features. The closer to the door she got, the faster she was moving until she burst through the door and hurled herself through the snow into his arms. 

“Hermione… I am so—“

“Remus, shut up please.” Her fists knotted in his robes, and pulled herself as close as she could to him. He enveloped as much of her as he could in his arms, pressing his nose into her wild curls, feeling her shuddering breaths rip through her body as if she hadn’t been breathing properly until now. She shivered, and Remus shifted, pulling his cloak free and wrapping it around her. 

“Remus I’m fine—“

“Wolf, remember? I run warmer than a tiny witch like you.”

“I’m not tiny—“

“Hermione, shut up please.” 

She didn’t have time to object before he was pulling her face up, and pressing his lips to hers. Her lips were so soft, her body molding to his as his fingers tangled in her hair. Their kiss danced along a fine line of desperation and reassurance, Hermione’s tears mingling the taste of salt with the tea on his lips and the firewhiskey on hers. 

Remus could feel her body responding to the kiss, her hands tightening even as her shoulders relaxed, the shiver up her spine as he flattened his palm against her back, pulling her closer. His other hand slid from her jaw to the nape of her neck, his fingers tangling in her wild curls. She moaned against his mouth when he teased the seam of her lips with this tongue, and her hands released his robes. 

He almost whimpered at the loss of her fists against his chest, but then she was slipping them under his robes. His shirt didn’t offer up any protection against the electricity of her touch, and he felt every nerve of his caressed skin light on fire as she ran her fingertips and then her palms over his powerful chest and shoulders, down over his flat, muscled stomach, and around to his broad back. She clung to him as if her life depended on getting enough of her body against him, and he only held her tighter. 

When they broke the kiss, Remus was relieved to see her smile was warm, lighting up her whole face. Just like the sun. His sun. 


	9. Chapter 9

**_Courage_ **

**_Don't you dare fail me now_ **

A year later, Remus pulled Hermione into the deserted corner of the Burrow’s garden, away from the twinkling lights and murmur of voices already enjoying the party. The snow was just beginning to fall, and Hermione drew closer to the heat radiating from his body. 

“It’s freezing out here. What are we doing?” Remus chuckled, brushing her fingers that were again fisted in the front of his robes. It was something she still hadn’t gotten over, and he hoped she never did; just like he hoped she’d never stop looking at him like she did now. 

“Did I ever tell you about the promise I made Lily, the Christmas before she died?” Remus tucked the petite witch into his chest, resting his chin on her head. Her curls tickled his throat as she shook her head; the sweet lavender and vanilla scent of her hair filling his nose. 

“She and James had just gotten married. It was right after a full moon, before the Wolfsbane Potion had been discovered so I was miserable. I don’t even remember where James, Sirius, and Pete had gotten to, but she made tea and we were talking… Somehow it got turned around to my love life.” He snorted, and Hermione giggled into his chest. 

“Lily told me I needed to find a girl that made me forget the moon… I promised her that if I ever found her, I’d make her my sun. The center of my universe. Lily would have had my ass if she’d been here when I pulled what I did last Christmas.” 

Remus could practically feel the curiosity radiating off her in waves. “I told Molly I wasn’t coming because I was afraid that you weren’t as serious as I was. I was scared.” 

“But you did come. What changed your mind?” Her voice was muffled, still buried in his chest. 

“Harry and Ginny. I swear to Godric it was like seeing James and Lily all over. I believe Ginny used the phrase, ‘I will fucking end you’ and Harry compared me to Dumbledore. It was a bit of a rude awakening, but I should probably thank them… Eventually.” 

Hermione shifted so he could see her brown eyes peeking above the layers of robes, cloaks, and scarves. The wide-eyed shock was enough to make Remus laugh, a full-bodied laugh that shook his frame and lit up his face. “So I let Ginny bully me a bit. But I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

She surged up, capturing his lips between hers. “I’ll have to remember that. But can we go in? Not all of us run hot and it’s freezing out here.” 

Remus wrapped his arms more securely around her. Godric, this was it. Where was that Gryffindor courage James and Sirius were always invoking? He needed it now. 

“We’ll go in, but I have a question first.” He squeezed her gently, and suddenly wished he could feel her skin against his for this. Too late now. “Hermione, will you marry me?” He brought one arm around, a small velvet box in his open palm. Her eyes got even bigger, taking in the diamond ring. “It was my mother’s… It’s not much, but I like to think she would have liked you, and would want you to have it.” 

The tears gathering in her eyes were the kind he didn’t mind so much; they were the tears that bubbled up when she couldn’t contain her joy. When Remus had first kissed her, when she’d moved in to their cottage after graduation, at Harry and Ginny’s wedding, when her parents finally came around to forgive her. He pried her left hand from his robes just long enough to slide it over her finger, and replaced her hand. The marquise-cut gem sparkled in the low light, and she just blinked at it. 

“You are everything to me Hermione, and I love you. You are my sun. I won’t fail you again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And because I couldn’t resist, be on the lookout for the smutty sequel, coming soon!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Must Be Magic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21920296) by [RubyLipsStarryEyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RubyLipsStarryEyes/pseuds/RubyLipsStarryEyes)




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